Breaking Matt
by Babydollloveshim
Summary: Mello, the boss of the Hebi, is determined on making Matt reveal the identity of who he is working for. Contains : Yaoi, Violence & Swearing Pairings : Matt x Mello Read & review , maybe?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This is my first story in a long time so I'll probably suck at this.**_

_**Mello**_

I moaned in pleasure as I felt the heavenly bar of milk chocolate melt in between my teeth, coating my mouth in bliss. Chocolate always does its trick after a day of hard work. Man. That was all I needed to lull myself amidst the hustle and bustle of the nightclub.

Crossing my legs, I glared at the man – no, boy, in front of me, who was no older than I was. He had a pathetic smug on his face.

"Who are you working for?" One of my underlings clouted his shoulder, driving him on his knee, when he did not reply. He simply threw me a smirk as his eyes remain concealed beneath those idiotic-looking orange tinted goggles of his. How I wish I could just put a bullet through his eyes! But we needed it. We needed to know who had sent him here.

My temples throbbed luridly, clearly displaying the end of my patience.

"You fucking bitch! Can you just open your fucking mouth and spill it?" I bellowed with ire as I whipped his face with my Beretta. This was insane. We had been trying to break him for an hour now yet, he was adamant on keeping the truth from us.

His body was already bloody and bruised; his lips split and his bones crushed. Nonetheless, he still kept mum. Not even a whine or a moan escaped those chapped lips of his. His burgundy locks fell into his face as he shifted his weight.

"I… won't t-tell." He breathed with much difficulty. This son of a bitch really needs a lesson. I yanked his chin towards my face before spitting at him.

"Who. Sent. You. Here?" I whispered in his ear, slowly flicking my wet tongue on his earlobe. I felt him quiver at the sudden contact. Heh. Got'cha. I tenderly sucked on his earlobe, trailing my finger down his neck as I did so, earning small lusty moans and whimpers. Without warning, I pressed my lips against his neck, biting and licking it, leaving no spot untouched. A loud moan escaped the redhead as I slid my hand across his well-built torso. The redhead clenched his fist as he tried to keep his trap shut but it was futile. He was a mess of moans and whimpers. All of a sudden, I bit down on his earlobe, drawing a ridiculous amount of blood.

In a blink of an eye, he kicked my stomach and I reeled away at the sudden impact. ; My azure eyes starring daggers at him.

"Why you little…" I returned the favour: my fist connected with his skull before a familiar cracking sound resonated throughout the whole room. I gritted my teeth in anger, trying my best to resist strangling this dog.

"Go to hell, bitch!" He spat and that was the last straw. Grasping him by his collar, I tossed him across the room like a ragdoll before his head connected with the wall, crimson red blood matting his burgundy locks. I guess he'll take some time to break but at least I know his weakness. Man. This is going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Deathnote**

_I don't think I have any readers but here it goes. _

Matt

My vision blurred to a point where I could not even distinguish an object from another.

_Thump. Thump. Thump_.

The only thing that I could hear was my heart beating at a steady pace. I could feel the familiar sting and ache of my joints and I knew that my body was battered and bruised.

A few seconds later, I blacked out.

When I finally regained my consciousness, I realised that I was in a cell, lying on a tiny piece of newspaper. I sat up; well, at least I tried to, before collapsing onto the gelid ground. There was some kind of vomit around me, soaking my skin with its revolting stench. I figured that it was my own vomit.

I knew I should have made a break for it when the heat from the bathhouse had caused the dragon tattoo on my back to fade. If only I had been smarter! I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. The don would be utterly disappointed with me if he knew that I had failed to obtain information about the Genesis Operation; a top secret bio-terrorist weapon that the Hebi had recently created. Personally, I have not yet seen the extent of the damage caused by the G.O. However, it was said that the G.O. would liquefy the victim within seconds that it have been introduced into the body system.

The metal door swung open, jolting me out of my trance. The blonde from earlier on, who was clad in leather, sashayed into the room, absentmindedly nibbling on a chocolate bar. He was the boss of the Kogane No Hebi (Golden Serpent) Mafia. Two burly-looking man followed suit.

I'll tell you what they look like: huge brown dinosaurs with bulging eyes. There was no better way to describe them.

One of them was dragging along a leather whip; a thick leather whip.

Unlocking the door to my cell, the blonde strutted in, still nibbling on that stupid piece of chocolate.

"Are you ready to tell me who you're working for?" He bit down on his chocolate bar. Of course I wasn't; how could I ever betray my own clan? I threw him a smirk before glancing to my right. He was clearly a sadist who enjoyed the taste of sweaty earlobes. To think that he even thought I was enjoying it when he teased me. _Bitch please._ I am not gay. Never will I be.

"Are you deaf?" He withdrew his Beretta, whipping it against my face_. God dammit_! Could he stop doing that?

"I won't tell you, you blonde bitch!" I hissed, earning a backhand from him.

"_Tsk, tsk, tsk,"_ The blonde grabbed me by my collar before yanking my precious goggles off me.

"Hey!" I bit down on his hand, making him flinch for a second before he backhanded me again.

"First of all, I am not a bitch," He growled. "Secondly, I hate those fucking goggles!" He lifted my chin, my hard eyes meeting his icy blue gaze. "Thirdly, " He whispered, his cold eyes not revealing a single shred of mercy.

"Why the fuck, do you have to be so pretty?" He tilted my chin before ramming my stomach with his knee_. The hell?_ I doubled over and clutched my empty stomach. What was wrong with this sick fuck? If he thought that this was the best way to break me, then he should be prepared to be sent back to elementary school. Same old tricks won't on me. I won't break this way. I never will.

With a snap of his fingers, the burly man handed him the leather whip before both of them left the room, slamming the door shut. The blonde slid his hand against the soft leather of the whip.

"Would you like to tell me who you are working for?" He said in a sweet monotonic tone, twirling the whip in between his fingers.

"Or would you like me to break you, before you do?" He spat as he raised the whip, preparing to strike me. Not even a shred of pity surfaced in his icy blue gems. All there was in those stunning cerulean gems was hatred.

_Silence. _

I faced my back towards him as I prepared for the worse.

Then it came: The tough leather bit into my skin, branding me as it tore my tender flesh apart. The burning sensation rippled throughout my whole body as I felt the leather burning into me, time and again. Never would I have thought that a day when my body would be tormented with this ungodly agony once more. The only sounds I could hear was my flesh ripping and the strain of my muscles.

Pictures of my father flashed across my mind. I was only six: An innocent and naïve child who had just wanted to be loved.

"_Mail!" My father bellowed before he wrenched me by the neck, slamming me against the wall. He had just arrived home from one of those bad days of his; which was almost every day unless he was in a really good mood. I was too shocked to do anything. All I ever did was stare back into my father's eyes – or the man who used to be my father. His eyes were nothing but empty pits of loathing and sorrow. When he released me from his grip, I knew that it was not over. My dad would beat me up for several hours – or even as long as he liked. My mother could not do anything: She was completely powerless. If she interfered, my dad would bash both of us up, not even caring about the neighbours complaining. _

_He withdrew a long leather whip that he had kept hidden under his bed before he whipped me with it; the sturdy leather, burning into the back of an innocent child, branding him for life. It was cruel. Was it not? But I did not falter, that was until, he called me a fucking son of a bitch who wasn't even worthy of living. I broke down: Literally. I had hoped with all my heart that at least he would love me, if not, at least accept me as his son. But he did not. I have always thought secretly that behind all those beatings was love: Love and compassion. But I was wrong: He did not love me. He detested me. _

I was brought back to reality when the leather bit into the same spot my father had abused a few years ago. A sense of nostalgia washed over me. My back was aching, tearing me apart in every way it could. Tear stung the corners of my eyes: I was breaking and there was no way I could let him see it. All of a sudden, the leather had stopped dead in its tracks. I cocked my head slowly to the side as I squinted to spot the cause of it. The blonde gaped at me as he stared at my bloody and ripped shirt. His eyes widened slightly as he squatted.

With a shake of his head, he dashed out of my cell, slamming the door shut. I cringed. Why did he stop? Didn't he say he was going to break me? Didn't he know that I was on the verge of breaking? So, why did he stop?

It was ironic actually. I was in sheer agony yet I had yearned for him to continue abusing my body. Even my genius mind could not comprehend what was going on. Sighing in resignation, I brought my knees to my chest, ignoring the tormenting agony I felt each time I brushed my finger against my skin. I knew that all I needed was my cancer stick and my Gameboy. They were all I ever needed in my life. I could never imagine my life without them. As I shut my eyes, I let my mind slip out of consciousness and into a deep sleep.

Mello

Damn! Why did I have to stop? Clearly, he was breaking! Wasn't this what I wanted? For him to break and reveal the person he was working for? God dammit! I punched the wall repeatedly, ignorant to my bleeding knuckles.

Something in me had just flipped. What was wrong with me? I could have extracted the information I needed yet I did not. Was it pity? No. I am Mihael Keehl: The boss of the Hebi. I will never harbour any form of kindness in me.

There was no way I pitied that pretty face of his. Never. I will break him; One way or another. This was it: my final shot of regaining my position.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Another update! Sorry for the crappy updates . : x**_

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_**Matt**_

Drip. Drip. Drop.

Drip. Drip. Drop.

My eyelids fluttered open, evincing a pair of empty green eyes which stared blankly at a white ceiling. The musty, foul stench of my cell was gone. Instead, the air was redolent with the smell of lavenders and chocolates. It did not take me long to register the fact that I was not in my cell anymore. I was in a white room, tucked neatly under warm white covers, clad in an oversized striped tee and leggings; matched with knee-high combat boots. My goggles were on my head. Was this a dream? I pinched myself hard in the cheek. No, it was not. I could still feel the searing agony that had coursed through my body just days ago.

How in the world did I get here? Was I dead? Drip. Drip. Drop. The sound of water dripping resonated throughout the whole room.

Drip. Drip. Drop. I gazed out of the closed window. It had been raining earlier on; the frosted glass panel was streaked with tiny water droplets. Where was I? My eyes scanned the room for any source of information.

I gingerly stepped out of the bed, flinching slightly at the zephyr which swept across the room. That was odd: The windows were closed so where had that breeze come from? The beautiful slender pistol on the rosewood end table my eagle eyes grasp. I grabbed the S&W 1911 before settling my hands on the doorknob, praying in silence that it was unlocked.

Click.

Thank goodness. I craned my neck out to study my surroundings. The walls were coated with white paint, so were the ceilings. The floor was tiled with smooth white ceramic; which was chipped off at the edges. The building was sparsely furnished; with only a chair and a pot of daises along the hallway. Somehow, it looked like it had been abandoned years ago. Craning my neck, I realised that the windows were all locked and grilled. Was this some kind of prison? Or maybe, it was an asylum? I released a breath that I did not know I was holding in as I took my first step out of the room. Something hinted to me that I was not alone in this building.

There was a cup of Adam's Peak White tea sitting on a red birch coffee table, at the end of the hallway: steam dancing slowly into the air from the mahogany surface, where curls of milk spiralled and tangled around the sour and fresh scent of freshly baked bread.

My eyes darted from side to side as I made my way down the hallway, clutching my S&W.

As I walked down the hallway, I could hear soft pleas coming from the chained metal rooms along the hallway: This must be some kind of prison. I bit down on my dry lips, lapping up the metallic liquid that stained my perfect pink lips red. My lips were not dry; a sign that someone had fed me while I was out cold. How long was I out cold? A few days? A week? I was not sure.

Suddenly, I could hear the familiar sound of the safety being released from the pistol.

_Ca-chik._

I spun around, only to be greeted by a Beretta aimed directly at my head.

"Hello there, beautiful," A familiar voice flitted into my ears as he used his free hand to swat away my S&W. _Blond bitch_ were the only words that flashed across my mind. _Wow_. I realized how weak I have become due to the absence of my cigarettes.

"Where am I?" I muttered; surprised by the croaky voice that escaped my pale lips.

"Somewhere. An old asylum," A grin split across his face; too wide for my liking as he lowered his head, his perfect golden locks falling into his cobalt eyes, creating a sense of mystery within them.

"How long was I out?" My gaze met his in an imaginary embrace.

"Three days," He paused as he stared thoughtfully at the Beretta before batting his lashes at me. _Flirt._

"Why did you bring me here?" I growled; annoyed at the fact that someone had changed me into these clothes; actually _touched_ my bare milky skin and scars with their fat grimy fingers.

"To have fun!" He chuckled like a lunatic, prodding my forehead with his Beretta. I hissed slightly when the cool metallic object touched my body.

"I'll tell you what: Let's play a game, shall we?" He flashed me a quirky smile before inching closer to me, the Beretta still trained on me. I knew that if I took a wrong step, that bullet's going into my head.

"I'll give you a week. If I fail to break you within the time span, I'll release you," His soft cheek brushed slightly against mine, sending shivers down my spine. Not those unpleasant shivers that you get when you are cold or scared but those shivers that leave you dizzy for more. It amazed me as to how his skin was that soft, considering he was from the mafia.

"If I do, you will tell me who you are working for and take me to him," He whispered; his voice laced with desire while his hand crept up my shoulder, making me shudder.

"Do we, have a deal here?" His smooth lips brushed against my ear as he enunciated each word clearly.

"Yes," I squeaked as he snaked his arm around my thin neck. What in the world was this guy trying to do? His gun switched its aim from my head to my heart; which, to me, did not make an ounce of difference at all. His long eyelashes veiled all traces of emotion from his cold, hard eyes. He inched closer to me, until our lips were barely apart.

"You know, I fucking hate you," He paused, as if to gauge my emotions. "If it isn't for the fact that your little fucking face is the only thing that has the information we need, I would have castrated you right now and hang your balls on your face." I had to admit: His malicious words stung my cold heart. Well, it's not so cold after all, eh?

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

I could feel my fast beating heart slamming against my sturdy chest, silently shrieking in agony. I shut my eyes as he tilted his head slightly to the left; his free hand raised high above his head, anticipating a backhand or a whip but instead, he planted his lips against mine, his arm cupping my cheeks, deepening the kiss. No! This. Was. _Not_. Happening.

He did not just kiss me. As much as I wanted to resist, I could still felt the Beretta trained on my back. Somehow, if I could just get it off of me, everything will be much simpler. _Yes. I'll just distract him_.

He tenderly nibbled on my bottom lip as he ran his bony fingers through my burgundy locks, sending tingling sensations down my spine. Trying to play along, I gently flicked my tongue against the entrance of his wet cavern, beckoning for entrance. Without warning, everything around me disappeared; vanished into the air without a trace. The only two things that remain were this redhead and a blonde: two bodies seeking some sort of solace from each other as they are faced with uncertainty.

I shivered at the thought that I might be gay but I eradicated it as soon as it surfaced. This was for my safety. Yes, I just need to distract him. This means nothing at all: _Nothing_ at all. I was straight and forever will be. This was just an act: a play. A play to keep me safe. Somehow, it doesn't make sense but I severed my thoughts completely, trying to focus on my goal: to get the Beretta out of his hands – or so it may have seemed to be.

If I could use something like this to distract this whore, then it will be so fucking easy. I smirked to myself as my hand tangled with his soft blonde locks. He resisted but eventually gave in, moaning slightly as I slipped my velvety tongue into his mouth. At first, he resisted as I explored his warm wet cavern but he eventually gave in as I fisted his golden locks; my tongue flicking cautiously in his mouth, the velvety undersides of our tongues dancing together with sheer ecstasy and bliss in a passionate fox-trot. My heart skipped a few beats as he caressed my cheek, stroking my chin with those milky fingers of his. His soft touches gave me goose bumps but I didn't care. All I wanted was to get the Beretta off of him; that was all I _needed_ to understand right now.

However, there was something I had to get off my chest: He was delicious; all I could taste was chocolate: Creamy, rich, warm chocolate; so heavenly that it melts your mouth, coating it delectably with its beautiful milky taste; so tantalizing that it overpowered my senses, leaving me begging for more. I almost moaned into his mouth: _almost_. Slipping my hand across his unscarred bare torso, I deftly tugged at the waistband of his skin-tight leather pants. I could feel his growing desire brushing against my leg as I palmed his rising erection. Unable to restrain himself, he moaned into my pink lips as he grinded his pelvis against mine, looping an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. The warmth of his body embraced me as it clutched onto my skin, unwilling to release me from its grasp.

"Fuck! S-stop," He mewed as he nuzzled my neck, letting his blonde locks fall all over me. It was adorable; seeing someone as rude and crass as him just melting into your arms, as tame as a kitten, knowing that you were the one who had turned him into that being. It was funny actually. I guess even love can break the toughest souls – _Wait_. This wasn't love. I was getting annoyed; infuriated that I had actually wanted this to mean something. After all, it was my first kiss. _Stop_. Just stop. Get a fucking grip on yourself! _Focus_!

If only he was not the boss of the Hebi, maybe: maybe, I would have fallen in love with him; His perfectly toned arms; his beautiful hard abs and those ravishing blue orbs. They were a ripper. He was the kind of guy any woman would fall for – not that I knew him that well but whatever.

My hands worked its way around his tiny ass. God! His toned arse was so damn tight! Maybe this bitch was a virgin? Hah! Like that'll ever happen. I gave it a slight squeeze, earning a yelp from him as I slid a hand on the Beretta, tugging slightly at it, demanding him to release it from his grip but he did not.

_Plan B_. Wait. Since when did I come up with plan B? Well, whatever. As long as it gets me out of this smutty shit, anything will surface; Be it sex, violence, whatever.

I slipped my hands into his leather pants, teasingly stroking the tip of his hard, throbbing member that was already sticky with pre-cum. Wow. That was fast. I smirked.

"N-ngh! F-fuck, stop it you bitch!" He whimpered as he finally released the Beretta in an attempt to swat my face but he missed. Checkmate. I smiled as I released myself from his embrace, pressing a knee to his privates while training the Beretta onto his pretty face.

Well, that was mission accomplished but why do I feel this tingle running down my spine? This weird sensation in my tummy as our lips connected? Slapping myself mentally, I focused on the poor blonde that was having a hard on.

"Fuck you!" He spat, cocking his head to the side as he finally gaze upon his hard on. A small blush found its way onto his beautiful cheeks as he shifted his weight, attempting to hide his massive boner (which was futile as it was so goddamn huge that even I wonder how he stuff it all in his leathers).

"Maybe later, not now," I winked seductively at him, knowing that I was in control of the situation. His brows furrowed in anxiety as he glared at me with those cold hard eyes of his.

"I suggest you let me go," I pouted while adding pressure to his groin.

"Nnn-Ah! Stop that!" He mumbled as he tried to regain whatever was left of his dignity – which I did not even think existed in the first place.

"I can't let you go, you slut," I pressed harder earning a growl from him as he desperately squirmed under me. Before I knew it, he flipped me over and he was pinning me down. His icy glare pierced my facade.

"I lost the keys to this fucking place, dammit," He stated bluntly, staring at me straight in my eyes. There was no way he would lie. Not when he almost lost his joy of celebrating Father's Day.

"Then, you're of no use to me." I pursed my lips, yanking my hand from his grip before I rammed the back of the Beretta into the back of his head, knocking the air out of his lungs. He dropped backwards onto the ground like a ragdoll; the same way he treated me when we first met. This was just the start of revenge. I cocked my head to the left. Suddenly, a weird thought crept into my mind.

Since he tasted like chocolate and even smelt like it, was it possible for someone's lungs to be filled with chocolate? Would all those tiny ants crawl into them and make tiny breeding grounds in them, filling them with cute miniature baby ants? Wait. The hell, Mail? Save your freakish thoughts for later! Right now, concentrate on finding a way out! I shook myself out of my queer trance.

I figured he'll be out for a few hours. That was a pretty damn good knock on the head. Without that dumb blonde interfering, I'll have enough time to search for an exit before I burn this place down. Speaking of which, I really need my precious cancer sticks before my withdrawal symptoms show up. If I was lucky, the blonde would have a pack or two in his pockets.

Cautiously, I slipped my hand into his side pockets. _Nothing_. His front pockets. Nothing. Maybe his vest? I felt a familiar square object in his leather vest. Ahh! Time for a cigarette break! I grinned with pure joy as I fished out a lighter from his vest, clasping my hands together.

My precious baby! I planted tiny kisses onto the stick before sliding it in between my pursed lips, lighting it up. The familiar wave of nicotine washed over me, calming down my deranged mind as filled my lungs, gradually fogging it up.

_Ahhh_. That was beautiful. I glanced over to the blond. And then it struck me, he had not told me his name. So, what was it? Jim? Henry? I shrugged as I crushed the cigarette butt with my heel before heading off. Maybe I'll ask him later: that is, if he survived. Looks like, I'm in charge now and I have no plans on changing that.

Down the hallway, there was a flight of stairs leading to the basement. My optics took some time to adjust to the darkness of the stairways. There was an oil lamp by the corner of the stairs. Figuring that it might help me on this dark and scary quest of mine, I picked it up before walking down the stairs, keeping an eye for whatever that was living in the building. All of a sudden, a loud shriek pierced through the still night air; a scream filled with pure horror and panic, followed by silence. The temperature was declining rapidly and I knew it; my breath came out in cold misty puffs and my teeth were clattering.

"Matt-y?" A familiar female voice echoed throughout the eerie hallways; a voice that was hauntingly familiar yet foreign. I could not put a face to it. As silently as possible, I released the safety of the Beretta before spinning around.

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_**A/N: On a scale of 1-10, how crappy was it? :/ I apologize for this ungodly piece of writing. I was using my phone and it did not have spellcheck. Sorry for all the spelling and grammatical errors! D:**_

_**Anyway, reviews are welcomed (bashing is fine too but just don't be too harsh).**_

_**Thank you for taking your time to read!**_


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